


Sink in the River the Lessons I Learned

by sadhockeytrashbaby (allofthefandoms)



Series: Three's a Crowd [2]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, Multi, Post WCoH
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-28
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-08-18 09:16:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8157046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allofthefandoms/pseuds/sadhockeytrashbaby
Summary: Matt slinks back to Pittsburgh after it becomes clear that Team North America isn’t moving on.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Okay I was so fucked up and sad about Matt Murray and Team NA that I processed through fic and returned to one of my favorite fics as inspiration.
> 
> This definitely stands alone as a fic, but thee are passing references to how they got together, which is the bulk of the first fic in the series. (Plus I'm super proud of that fic so maybe go read it and leave a comment?)

Matt slinks back to Pittsburgh after it becomes clear that Team North America isn’t moving on.

As long as there had been hope, he felt like he owed it to them, but the crushing defeat feels like it was his fault. He never should have tried to play through his injury and the whole team paid for it, their one loss squarely on his shoulders. It’s the first real taste of defeat he’s ever had after the giddy rush of last season’s cup run and its lead in his stomach as he fumbles one handed with his gear.

The pressure change hadn’t agreed with his broken hand and even in the air cast it feels painful and clumsy. He somehow manages to get his stuff off the conveyor belt but between the ball in his stomach and the pain in his hand it’s just too much. He slumps against a post in the corner of the airport and puts his head down, trying not to cry.

“Sucks, doesn’t it?” Matt looks up to see Marc kneeling in front of him and his throat suddenly gets tight. “Being so close and falling on your face in front of everyone.”

“I…I ruined it for them. They would have moved on if I hadn’t tried to play hurt.”

“Maybe yes, maybe no. All you can do is keep your head up and be proud of what you accomplished.”

“But I didn’t accomplish anything. We didn’t even make it out of the round robins.” Flower just pressed a kiss to the top of his head, giving him a sad smile.

. .

Flower is briskly efficient, getting all of Matt’s stuff into his apartment before bringing him to his house. He quickly sets Matt up on the couch, hand elevated on a pillow and wrapped in ice. He tuts when Matt confesses he forgot to take his painkillers before the flight, and forces Matt to take them with a protein shake. It isn’t long before Matt is floating in a haze of Vicodin and shame. 

“Jeff is on the phone, wants to check in,” Marc says gently, tapping Matt’s shoulder. He gives a little grunt, reaching for the phone with his good hand.

“Hey babe.” The soft voice makes Matt shudder, eyes suddenly hot with the tears he’d been fighting since the loss. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m such a fuck up,” Matt chokes out, unable to stop the tears from falling. “They would have moved on if I hadn’t been so stubborn and tried to play through my injury.”

“You can’t know that,” Jeff chides softly. “And you can’t change what happened either. That was one loss in the very beginning of your career. You’re the only one thinking this will color the rest of your career. Everyone else is too busy remembering the way you won us the Stanley Cup. Let Flower fuss and take care of you. It’s okay to be sad and disappointed, but don’t let it consume you.”

“When are we seeing you next?” Matt sniffles.

“November 3rd,” Jeff’s says, sounding unhappy. “Fuck I wish I could be there for you right now but training camp is too important right now. Can’t fuck up my first impression if I want to play.” Matt can’t swallow his unhappy sound. As much as he loves Flower, and he does, Jeff was his first love and the fact that a whole continent separates them for the first time since they got together aches.

“Hey, I love you, alright? We’re gonna be just fine, I promise.”

“Miss you so much,” Matt whispers, tears finally falling.

“Miss you too.”

. .

It’s strange not dressing for practice. He goes in to meet with the trainers and get a light workout in, but he can hear Flower settling into the routine of the beginning of the season, chirping callups and veterans alike. He’s finished about a quarter of the way through practice so he showers and goes to sit by the ice. The familiar faces go a long way to settling his nerves. He knows this, knows that even with his injury that he earned his spot here, that he deserves it.

Flower is in high spirits after a good practice, chattering the whole drive back to his house. Matt lets himself sink into the steady flow of words, letting them round out the last sharp corners of the ache in his chest. Thee is a whole season spread out before him, a man he loves at his side, and it makes everything else seem insignificant.


End file.
